Temporary Sanity
by bambi kiedis
Summary: A D/G fic in which neither Draco or Ginny could be classified as good or evil, and love is replaced by obsession. Adult content and situations, drug use in future and characters that aren't simply one or two-sided.
1. Dreams

**A/N: Ok so, this story was something that just hit me today. I finished this chapter today, so pardon me if it's not _quite_ so great. It's also not beta-ed but don't let that stop you from reading! It's my first try at writing something a bit more mature, and believe you me, this one's gonna get very adult-y very soon :D Also, review puh-lease! I'll love you forever Xx  
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**Disclaimer: Yea, yea, we've heard this before. I don't own Harry Potter!**

Her hands were shaking as they moved over his chest, going lower and lower and breathing sharply at each careful motion. His eyes never left her face, all the wonder, excitement and fear she was emanating was making him forget how to breathe. Here he was, pushing her back up against the cold, stone wall, bodies practically molding into one as he inched closer with every rough kiss he planted on her neck. Everything was a drunk haze, an erotic blur when their lips finally found each other, but with every hungry, desperate kiss it still was not enough. Growling into her mouth, he slammed her harder into the stone, managing to get something of a pained squeak out of her. Her hands were now twining around his shaggy, white-blond hair, tugging and pulling but yet he felt nothing. Frustrated, his hands found the hem of the swanky, little dress she was wearing and ripped at it until she was completely bare. The torchlight gleamed off her porcelain skin with cinnamon freckles and made her vibrant red hair look like fire, and as he moved away to get a better look, her chocolate brown eyes seemed to simply melt with desire.

"Come closer" she whispered, and no one needed to tell him twice. Once again he dove for her, and a bitter smile tugged at her pink lips as his hands held her waist and pulled her closer, yearning to feel every inch of her on his. Her legs wound up around his waist and her hands clawed at his pants, his only item of clothing, which pooled down in a heap on the floor. He could feel everything now, how hot and wet she was down there, and he lost control. He shoved into her roughly and she let out a whimper in pain, but didn't attempt to push him away. Pulling in and out, faster and faster, he got into a rhythm and drilled into her harder and harder, while blinding pain and pleasure mixed into one huge feeling of ecstasy for them both. Soon, his movements got jerky, he was going over the edge and she was falling with him, muscles tightening and convulsing, breaths mingling and moans echoing throughout the small, dingy room. Finally, he came in her with one final tremor and she scrunched her eyes shut as she reached climax as well. They stood there for a while, her against the wall with him slouched against her, knowing that neither could stand without the other. While he was still breathing hard and in her, unable to make himself pull out, he felt her hot mouth close around his ear, biting at his lobe suggestively.

"I'm sorry," she breathed silkily. "But this can never be real."

His eyes shot open, pupils dilating for everything around him was changing, melting away into a different scene. It was dark, and it took him a few seconds to adjust to the dimness, until he could make out a looming wardrobe and his large, elaborate hangings over the king-sized bed in his mansion. Groaning in displeasure, he couldn't hate the place more, for he would rather be in his unconscious, dreaming state with the girl of his dreams forever. He was covered in cold sweat, he realized, and his sheets were wound up around his body uncomfortably, like he tossed and turned considerably throughout the night. Disappointment and anger was coursing through his veins, he felt cheated and empty, and another feeling he couldn't quite put his finger on. Nevertheless, he simply couldn't go back to sleep, his dreams were too real and too frustratingly painful, and at that point he was seeing red. Oh what he would give to be able to pound some poor blokes head in at that moment!

He stormed out of bed, moving to open the lush, heavy curtains in his room, hoping to calm himself. He might've been surrounded by darkness, but the curtains were so thick and richly dark, he could never be sure whether it was actually day or night. The sky outside was an angry purple, the sun _this_ close to showing itself and the night _that _close to it's final bow, to give itself up to light. That's when he saw it again, though vividly as one remembers an old memory or a fantastic dream. The sight of _her, _back arched and eyes heavy-lidded, standing open for the taking in front of his bewildered eyes. He got chills up and down his spine as he remembered the feel of her feather-light hands moving, exploring, and every hair on his body seemed to stand in attendance at the smoothness of her honey sweet voice in his ears. Why he did this to himself, he didn't know. He was warned, not by any other person for no one else was permitted to know, but by his natural instincts that she was no good for him. _I deserve a thousand times better than that scum_, he told himself, yet every single insult directed at her flew out the window as soon as he laid eyes on her again, giggling and utterly, completely, fantastically unattainable. That was the reason he was here, locked up in his tower of the Malfoy Manor, staying away from that fucking school and that gorgeous fucking girl over the Christmas holidays. What he dreaded and anticipated at the same time was that in only 2 days, yes he had been counting, he'd have to head back to Hogwarts where he'd be forced to "see the little wench cuddle up to another complete tool", in his own words, forgetting of course the bounty of girls he would surely use as distractions.

Completely lost in thought, he missed the sun begin to poke it's brilliant head through the gloom, so the lightening of the sky caught him by surprise. He whistled softly in appreciation for he'd only ever seen one thing, one being, more perfect. So he finally unlocked the rusting hatch and opened the large window, cold in only his boxers as the wind whipped through him, blowing his hair into his steel grey eyes as they looked out into the brilliant sunrise but only saw _her_ taunting face hidden behind long, auburn hair.

**Part two**

Ginny Weasley woke up after a recurring dream she'd been having for quite some time now, in which she was stuck in some kind of mansion, all by herself in a beautiful room decorated with diamonds and things she'd never seen or heard of, but were stunning nonetheless. With only one window in the room, Ginny would always find herself gazing at the gorgeous view outside, at the beautiful ocean with sunlight dancing off every ripple, and smiling whole-heartedly. There was always a mirror in this room, one large enough to cover an entire wall, and this too was elaborate and over-the-top, but wouldn't be better any other way. The frame looked ancient, but somehow still sparkled, and when she reached out to feel it instinctively, it gleamed under her touch as if asking for more. What startled her every time, no matter how repetitive it all got, was her reflection staring back at her in horror. It was still her, that she could tell, but her hair would be caked with blood so that it's natural fire died down to a defeated, dank brown. Her eyes would be sunken with unnaturally red and purple circles under them, as if the entire weight of the world rested in it's pitiful grasp. Unclothed, Ginny would just notice the deep purple bruises on her body when something would catch her attention in the corner of her eye. There, outside the wide-open window, the view that once made her smile would change, the water would go all the way back until she could barely see it, and then it would all rush back. A giant tsunami would roar toward her, and her heart would catch in her throat while she tried to scream it out.

And that's how she'd wake up, bolt upright in her bed and panting, breathless, but thankfully never screaming. Of course, she'd pull herself back together in no time, but there would always be that underlying fear of going to sleep each night, and a desperate urgency to understand what they mean and why they visit her every night. She'd said she would make it a point to go the library, when she's back at Hogwarts, and find something to aid her and hopefully answer some burning questions. For now though, all Ginny could do was wait, knowing that she only had two more days was enough to get her through the last of her Christmas holidays.

Unable to get back to sleep, she decided to get some fresh air, and to her nothing was fresher than a cigarette. So, still wrapped up tightly in her blanket, she made her way onto her tiny balcony, shivering in the cold but thankful for the small roof overhead and the warming charm her mother had set on the area and it's lone wooden bench. Pulling out one of the cigarettes Colin Creevey had given her, she lit it with the lighter that she had stolen from some muggle boy, and took a long drag of the killer. She knew how dangerous these muggle contraptions were, but of course, their toxicity just added to their novelty. Having caught Colin and some other muggle-borns smoking in an empty classroom one day, Ginny decided to join in the fun. She hid it from her close friends and family, even though she didn't think they would mind, mostly because no one but Harry would really know what they were. They weren't that bad anyway, they helped her think quietly and relax, which was something she felt she desperately needed. Pensively, she watched as the sky lightened and turned purple, gazed in lazy awe as the snow-capped trees around her sagged under the weight of the newly-fallen snow that had come down the night before. Everything was beautiful, as good as new. Something she wanted to learn from the earth was how it managed to never look old, how it managed to entrance people, how it brought life and death along with it but was still so casually taken for granted.

Soon, she was so lost in thought and smoke that she lost track of time, realizing only too late that she had spent almost two hours sitting outside in the cold she couldn't feel. She could hear the busy clanging and sizzling of breakfast being prepared downstairs, signaling that soon the entire house would be out and about, with the exceptions of maybe one or two of her brothers hung-over from the previous night of Friday drinks. Taking a final drag of her third smoke, she stood up, and forgetting her previous appreciation of the beauty of nature, flicked her still smoldering butt out into the snow. _Only two more days, so I better make the most of being at home, _she thought as she headed into the small shower, fully prepared for a long, hot wash while her brothers slept, and then a delicious, almost famous, Saturday morning home-made breakfast.


	2. Discoveries

He was absent-mindedly tapping his foot, not really listening to the muffled bangs his large shoes made on the thick carpet, or even voices of his acquaintances around him for that matter. Simply staring out the window with his head in his hands, the passing scenery was slowly lulling him to sleep, the blur of the cold country-side making his eyelids droop. He was guiltily content, for he had seen the Weasley girl board the Hogwarts Express, ending the days and nights he spent in longing. Of course, just seeing her wasn't enough, not even close.

"Hello handsome," squeaked an annoyingly sugar-coated voice in left ear. "I saw you at the Christmas Eve party, though you pointedly ignored me. Now, I know you didn't do that on purpose, right? You wouldn't want to ignore me now would you? Because I was this close to telling daddy, and you know how much he doesn't like his baby getting hurt."

His body tensed instinctively, he should have known the brat would pounce the first chance she got. So he ignored her at the party, instead choosing to snog an older red-head in his bedroom, but what the fuck did she expect? The girl meant nothing to him, and she never would, and there was nothing her 'daddy' could do to make him want her. But he only responded with a growl as he shuffled away from his pursuer, Pansy Parkinson, who in turn just moved with him, giggling in a way she thought to be coy. Knowing he couldn't be rude to the rich bint whose family was deeply entwined with his, Draco couldn't say, or do, what he truly wanted to, which was to hex her off a fifty foot cliff and watch her clingy body splatter onto some cleverly placed, sharp rocks at the bottom. Yes, he'd had that fantasy plenty of times before, but in the end he knew it all boiled down to his family name, and what would happen to him if he did indeed murder the slut.

Instead, he stood up gruffly and marched out of the train compartment, ignoring the imploring looks of his fellow Slytherins, to whom he felt no bond with anymore. His old friends were too bigoted and deliriously misled due to their easily manipulated minds and Draco didn't want to feel like them anymore, it wasn't a drastic change as he wasn't suddenly going to worship at saint Potter's feet, but he rather felt the same toward the Dark Lord as well. He was his own man, not a flawless one, but rather one that followed his own rules and made his own choices, yet going down this path was not easy. All eyes were on him, waiting for him to make a mistake that would wind up being his downfall, and any imbecile could see he was prone to making hasty decisions and following dangerous instincts and desires.

To Draco, being safe meant being a tool, someone's slave, while associating with the 'right' kinds of people and staying away from the wrong, it meant marrying someone like Pansy, living out an unbearable existence and leaving your 'legacy' for your offspring to carry out and continue, hoping they'll go further but never quite caring. It was all so plainly stupid and flawed, it seemed a miracle he'd never noticed before, that everything he had been bred to believe and do; it was all just a waste of time.

A flash of color caught his eye, and he lazily turned his head and looked straight into a compartment he thought was empty at first glance, but now he could make out a small group of people sprawled all around the small space. There were about six or seven students grinning crazily, with thick smoke flying out the open window, leaving only a slightly clouded appearance over the crowd. Moving closer to get a better look, Draco put his arm up against the sliding door, just near the small panel of glass that you could see through, and watched with interest as they sucked on a strange little thing that looked to be on fire, passing it around something of a circle so everyone could have a turn. A small looking boy who looked one or two years younger than him with mousy brown hair that fell to his shoulders took a long suck, laughing with what looked to be pleasure, smoke flowing out of his mouth and nose as he did so. None of them were in their robes yet, from what he could tell they were still in their muggle clothes, which to him was a bit careless since they only had about an hour or so of the journey left.

The mousy boy took one final share of smoke and passed on the burning contraption to a girl who was lying on the floor, drawing things in the air with her small, pointed fingers with one hand. She rose then, her hair a tangled mess hanging in her face, making Draco do a double-take. It was her, Ginny Weasley, with the strange kids he'd never seen before. It didn't quite look like her though; he'd never seen her look so ragged, from what he saw her eyes were wild and the lop-sided grin on her face didn't seem her own. Standing closer still to the compartment door, there were a million questions rushing through his mind. Like what the Weasley girl was doing separated from the Golden Trio, what the fuck the burning thing was, why these idiots were inhaling it, why everyone in there, including her, looked so hammered and why they hadn't noticed his looming face in the glass panel after about ten solid minutes of him watching. Suddenly, one of the girls in the room, a tiny girl with olive skin and large eyes glanced over her shoulder and caught Draco off guard. He was sure he was caught now, and he quickly tried to come up with an excuse, or at least an insult, to stop them from asking uncomfortable questions about why he was watching them.

Instead, she simply stared at him for a moment longer, making him uncomfortable but unable to turn away, until she finally broke the contact and grinned in his general direction. Swaggering to her feet, she slowly walked up to the door and slid it open, making Draco jump back in alarm.

"What the fu-"

"Do you want to come in now? Or are you just going to stand outside and stare for a bit longer?" she asked innocently, leaning against the doorframe for support. Seeing his bewildered face at the stench that was flowing from her, she laughed heartedly, almost crazily, and caught hold of his shirt-sleeve and dragged him in. He coughed throatily, the smoke worsened as the girl slid the door shut shakily, he had to cover his mouth with one arm to stop the disgusting stuff from going up his nose or down his throat any more.

"Aubrielle! You dumb bitch, why in Merlin's name did you bring Malfoy in here?" yelled a hoarse voice from near the window, Draco twisted his torso to get a better look at the speaker who was a fairly large boy, shrouded in a corner of a seat with an unpleasant look of disgust on his face.

"He wanted to come in," said a smooth voice that Draco was surprised to find belonged to little girl who brought him in. "Leave him alone, he's with me."

"He can't be here, you don't fucking understand that now but when you come down from that green cloud of yours will. If he tells Snape or anyone at the castle, we'll be done for!" the boy yelled, his brutish face contorting with rage. He stood up fluidly, storming over to Draco, who twisted around fully and stared the boy straight in his eyes.

"What exactly would you be done for, now?" drawled Draco effortlessly, arms crossed across his chest. The look on his face was obviously intimidating enough to make the other boy shift away uncomfortably, or maybe it was just the situation in which he was now put. Suddenly, a wicked grin came over the boy's face, the look in his eyes surprising Draco.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" he grunted. "Go on, give it a try." And he looked over Draco's shoulder at the little girl who passed him the smoking thing. "This, this is a joint. You smoke it, obviously, and well, it's even better than magic." He passed it onto Draco with a wink, watching with glee as he fondled the smoldering joint between his fingers. The end was burning a dry, grey color with ashes slowly falling to the ground. It smelt disgusting, and the longer he spent standing in this small compartment, the more light-headed he became. He didn't like the feeling, everything was getting slightly hazy, thought it wasn't too obvious.

"No thanks," Draco spat, flicking the burning remains into the lap of the tiny girl, who hungrily brought it to her lips and puffed away happily. "I'm not in the mood to turn into a slobbering git." Looking out the window, he could tell some time had gone by since he first left his compartment for his walk, the sky was darkening, Hogwarts would surely be looming somewhere in the not-so-far-off distance. "We're almost at school, you might want to do something about this lot."

With that, he gave one final glance around his shoulders and caught sight of the famous redhead staring at him questioningly from her position on the floor, before leaving the troubled mob behind. She wasn't his problem, and if she wanted to hang around with trouble then that was her choice. Whatever they were up to, it obviously wasn't anything good, he just wished he knew exactly what it was they were doing. The sight of her imploring face burned fresh in his mind, and accompanied with it was the image of her looking so…vulnerable, lying on the ground like some roughened rag-doll. He didn't like any of it, nothing about his new discovery was pleasing, for some unknown reason he couldn't stand the idea of her around such filth and common trouble-makers. With a huff of indignation he spun on his feet and left behind the only person he truly cared about.


End file.
